The Rogue and the Mage
by Jewell Treader
Summary: The Fist Enchanter has called upon Hawke for a secret mission. But for payment for her services, she has something else in mind.


Hawke slammed the front door on her way in and stormed past Bodahn, who was muttering something.

"Not now, Bodahn!" Hawke snapped, throwing up her palm to cut him off. She was too infuriated to listen to him gab her head off. The reason being, two idiots: Fenris and Anders. That would be the _last _time she ever took them two together in public. If she had to stand by and listen to them argue, "mages did, or Templars did that", she was going to…

"A letter came for you this morning, messere," Bodahn let slip, despite her warning. "The servant came all the way from the Gallows for you. Said it was urgent. Sent by the First Enchanter himself."

Hawke stopped halfway up the staircase_. Orsino?_ Now what in the name of Andraste would someone of his stature want with her? Hopefully it didn't involve Meredith. She didn't have the time—or the patience—to listen to them bicker, as well. She sighed.

Bodahn waved the letter in his hand. She could see the red seal on the letter. Her anger forgotten, Hawke retraced her steps and took the letter from him. She broke the seal and read to herself.

_Champion,_

_You deserved your new title, despite what Knight-Commander Meredith might prefer. You and I both know what would have happened had you not been there to face the Qunari. I'm sure you've received no shortage of accolades from the powers that be in this city, but for what it's worth, I'm sending a gift from the Circle of Magi, too. Use it well._

_Regards,_

_First Enchanter_

Well, howdy doo dee, she thought. A sweet gesture. And a praise at that! She smiled. It seemed just about anyone admired her these days. Not that it pained her to say so. She thanked the Maker for this. She needed it to brighten her day. Now she could at least get a goodnight's rest. Or that's what she thought.

A loud barrage woke her up, and seeing that it was barely visible outside, she cursed whoever decided to come knocking at this ungodly hour. Where was Bodahn? Or Sandal? _Bang! Bang! Bang!_

Andraste's Tits! She threw the covers off and donned a robe lying nearby, tying the sash as she headed downstairs.

"I'm coming, I'm coming! Can I not have a peaceful night of sleep?"

The banging ceased to stop. Likely the noise had woken up every nobleman from here to Viscount's Way. _What was it now? _If it was Anders and his stupid nightmares again…

She swung the door inwards, and froze. It was a mage, by the robes he wore. He looked on edge, and jabbed a letter into her hand.

"I was told to give this to you," he said quickly. "The letter will explain. I'm sorry, messere for the intrusion, but I have to return before I'm missed."

She watched the mage disappear into the darkness before closing the door. She took the unopened letter upstairs and closed her bedroom door and locked it behind her. With deft fingers, she quickly broke the sloppy stamped seal and read whatever it bore.

_Champion,_

_I apologize sincerely for this early wake-up call, but I have an urgent matter that I need to speak to you about, in private. I can't say much. I risk even one of my own with this letter, but there was no one else I could trust to get this to you without suspicion. Meet me in the Gallows at your earliest convenience._

_Regards_

_First Enchanter_

She leaned against the door and knocked her head against it. This was going to be a _long_ day, she could already tell.

At her earliest convenience, huh? Well, it was almost midday. She told herself she would rest, and by rest, without any interruptions. After a warm bath, which Bodahn had drawn for her, she stood n front of her mirror, smoothing her wavy brown hair back from her face. It would dry by the time she reached the Gallows. She brushed her straight-cut bangs to the peak of her brow. It complimented her bright blue eyes. With a little pink blush, and mascara, she drew back to praise the outcome.

She pursed her lips, not satisfied with the results. When was she ever? She moved her finger below her eye to stretch the skin out, seeing what she would look like without the bags underneath. She never considered herself drop down gorgeous, but she was on the average, she guessed. For a woman of her stature. She had the money to spend at the Blooming Rose, if she desired company other than her own. She tried it once. Paid the extra fetching fifty silver just for a few teasing "touches" by a male elf and some uncomfortable probing in her nether regions—which hurt like the Flames. She didn't enjoy it, either. Probably had to do with the fact that she wasn't at all attracted to the elf. She barely even got his name.

She leaned on the dresser and pouted her lips. She was twenty-six. It was time to span her horizons and find a suitor. It's what her mother would have wanted. Thinking of her only brought a wave of emotions and tears. She quickly dried them up before they washed away her makeup. She distracted her thoughts by pondering suitable courters. She didn't know anyone who might take an interest, other than Anders, or maybe Fenris. Both were handsome and charming in their own way, and she had a secret fetish for elves. But Fenris was too broody, and Anders, sometimes she couldn't tell if it was really him she was talking to, or Justice. Bi-polar mages was not on her to-do list, no pun intended. So that ruled both of them out.

The bell in the chantry tolled, annunciating noon. She gave a mental shake and checked her wardrobe. She scanned the collection of clothes, scooting aside the ones that made her scowl. What to wear? She thought. Normally she would just pick one and go, but she decided to look her best for today. After all, the First Enchanter would expect it. She finally settled on a blue satin dress with ruffles. She was always partial to ruffles. Abandoning her bathrobe, she slipped into the dress and tightened the laces in the back. She didn't realize that the dress revealed more of her cleavage than she wanted. All one had to do was unbutton the folds at the top and her girls would be saying hello.

Oh, well. She didn't fell like changing. And to be blunt, she kinda liked it. Made her feel more womanly, and naughty. She almost laughed at the thought. She completed her assemble with a pair of velvet boots. But they wouldn't be seen under the dress. With one last look in the mirror, she made the long journey to the Gallows. She was groaning by the time she reached the docks. She was already regretting wearing these boots.

The ferryman offered her free service across, saying that he couldn't allow such a beautiful woman to pay a small fee. Of course, she wasn't going to refuse his offer. She climbed into the dingy, and he ferried her across the lake. He talked most of the way, but she was too focused on the towering form of the prison-like Gallows approaching. He drifted the boat up into the small harbor. It was unusually quiet compared to the port on the other side. Only one Templar stood posted, and his posture was slumped. She approached him, and the Templar suddenly drew himself erect.

"Messere," he said.

"Relax, guardsman," Hawke said. "It's just me."

"Champion!?"

"The one and only. Tell me, you wouldn't happen to know where the First Enchanter is, do you?"

"He's in his study," the Templar replied. "Continue down that way, and you'll come into the courtyard. Take a left up the stairs and his office is down the Templar Hall, first door on the left. Right across from the Knight-Commander. Or just follow the raised voices. But you didn't here that part from me."

Hawke laughed and thanked him. Following his directions, she entered the courtyard and climbed the stairs. She passed through the studded doors at the top, which led her down a long, narrow hallway, bare of décor. How anyone could live here was beyond her reasoning.

She came to the first door on the left. If the guard was correct, this was the First Enchanter's office. She paused before knocking. Why was she nervous? Shaking her head, she rapped lightly on the door, but little justice that did. The knocking echoed loudly in the hall. She cringed. So much for being discreet.

It took a moment before Orsino's voice answered. "Enter."

She bit her bottom lip. She wondered if she had disturbed him. She turned the handle and pushed the door inwards. Orcino stood with his back turned to her, stacking papers on his desk to make himself look busy. She closed the door quietly behind her and coughed to let herself be known.

Orsino looked up, and seemed to take a double take. Maybe the dress was a little too much, she thought, feeling her cheeks blush.

The First Enchanter quickly collected his thoughts, and bowed his head in recognition. "Thank you for coming, Champion," he said. "Few will associate with me now, now that I'm the focus of Meredith's ire." He paused, bringing his hand up to rub his temple. "Which leaves me in a difficult position. She is not entirely wrong."

Hawke started and blinked. Did she hear that correctly? That must have been hard for him to admit.

Orsino moved around his desk to glance out the window. "I know some of my people use dangerous means to oppose her. But I cannot seek the templar's aid without making every mage a target." He bowed his head and shook it.

Hawke, being in a good mood, decided to lighten the mood. "I think you're underestimating the Knight-Commander. She'd probably kill the whole city just to be safe."

Orsino snorted in amusement. "She might just take on all the Free Marches." He turned back to face her, coming closer. "I've heard rumors, whispers of a secret meeting in High Town. I would go myself, but should I leave the tower without permission, Meredith would call it proof of my involvement." He rolled his eyes.

"So I shouldn't slit my wrist and dance naked under the moonlight just to fit in?"

She meant it as a joke, and suddenly felt embarrassed after she said it. He arched an amused eyebrow at her, an impish smile pulling at the corner of his lips. "If that is what you intend, perhaps I'll join you after all."

She averted his gaze, knowing she was blushing even more. He cleared his throat, changing the subject.

"Just find out the nature of this meeting," he instructed. "You needn't interrupt, unless you find proof of something sinister. I pray not, or Meredith will have what she needs to justify the Right of Annulment."

Hawke raised her hand for her group to halt. Aveline, Varric, and Fenris were a step behind her. Even though it was dark, Hawke could hear voices ahead in the nearby alleyway. With a sharp nod, her companions scattered themselves and hid behind the cover of the walls.

"Hawke, what is it?" Aveline asked.

"Wait here, let me check it out," Hawke replied in a whisper. She crept forward, staying as close to the shadows of the buildings as she could. If it was one thing she was good at, it was stealth. She could avoid being detected better than the others. This was the result of her light armor. The voices were closer now, and they sounded angry.

Hawke stopped at the edge of the corner where the voices emanated from. Sure enough, peeking around the wall, there stood a circle of mages, men and women both. They were argueing, that was certain. And she was certain she heard Meredith's name more than she could count.

One of the mages, a dark skinned woman in a hooded robe, drew a knife. "Let me kill her! I'll do it just this once. Let the demons have her soul!"

Hawke started. The mage was about to draw the knife across her wrist. That could only mean one thing: Blood Magic.

Not on her watch.

She drew her daggers and advanced. Her companions saw her and drawing their own, charged after her. The mages saw them coming and drew their staves. The mage still held the dagger over her wrist, looking at Hawk, and smiling. Don't do it! Hawke thought. The mage slit her wrist and blood spiraled around her form. Her shadow grew and her body transformed into a Pride Demon. Out of the ground morphed six more of the foul creatures.

"Demons!" Hawke warned her companions. "Spread out! Varric, gun down that Pride Demon!"

"Locked and loaded!" Varric answered her, his crossbow already trained on the approaching Pride Demon. He sent an iron bolt flying pass her head where it struck the Pride Demon in the chest. On impact, the demon let out a horrible wait and crumpled to smoldering ashes. Hawke, Aveline, and Fenris intercepted the demons blocking their path. Hawke evaded the sharp, jagged claws aimed at her, and twisted around the creature to bring both daggers plunging into its back. The demon howled and crumpled at her feet. She glanced over to find Aveline and Fenris finishing the other demons without much difficulty. Now, all that left was the four mages.

Unexpectedly, they withdrew their staffs and threw them to the ground. Apparently, the sight of the demons falling before the warriors frightened them into submission. Hawke thanked the Maker. She didn't want to kill anyone if she didn't have to. She would let Orcino decide their fates.

Blood, armor, and all, Hawke marched down Templar Hall. Despite the hour, she thought the First Enchanter would want to hear about what had occurred tonight. She tapped with aknuckle upon the door to soften the noise. At least it didn't echo down the hallway like last time. She didn't want to wake up anyone—especially the Knight-Commander, who's office resided right behind her. She gave a slight shudder. That woman creeped her out for some odd reason.

She waited a few minutes, standing back and forth on the soles of her boots. She was about to knock again when the door cracked open. His large, golden eyes peered back at her. He had a lookof mild annoyance on his face.

"Oh, Champion, it's you," he said in a surprised whisper. He opened the door. "Come inside."

"I'm sorry for waking you, First Enchanter," Hawke apologized, seeing that he wasin what she considered his sleep wear—A long, cerulean blue robe with giant cuffs. He was just finishing tying the silver sash around his waist when she entered. She noticed, too, that he was barefooted.

"No need to apologize," he said, closing and locking the door behind her as she went. "I wasn't even sleeping actually." He took in her appearance. "I speculate the meeting didn't end discreetly?"

"Most of them surrendered when we dispelled the demons," Hawke answered. Orcino crossed her path and stood in front of his desk, leaning on it and shaking his head.

"Such is the effect of Meredith's hold over us," he said, his high shoulder drooping. "It has caused some of us to act in desperation in the only means they know how: Blood Magic."

"Also, they were plotting to kill the Knight-Commander," Hawke told him.

"Well, now I'm even sorry I had sent you to intervene," he added cynically. He let out a heavy sigh, pushing himself from the desk and regaining his proud stature. "Nevertheless, I more than appreciate your help. I will repay you in some way for your services. You have done all the mages here a great favor. We will not forget it."

Hawke nodded in favor of his gratitude. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

"So am I," he said, letting a frown slip. "I only wish Meredith could see that we're not all bad. But to her, magic, and anyone who uses it, for that matter, is a blight upon the earth that must be eliminated." He shook his head. "She does not understand, and she never will. Don't get me wrong, Champion, I respect the Knight-Commander, and I recommend her for her services protecting this city, but that does not give her the authority to treat us like common criminals. I won't stand for it!"

He brought his fists down upon the desk, causing an inkwell to tip over and splatter its contents over some letters. He didn't seem to care, however. With his back turned towards her, Hawke pondered the idea of relieving him of stress. He was clearly at a breaking point, and unable to do anything about it. The idea that came to her, thought, almost made her blush with embarrassment. No, she told herself. I can't do something like that. He would never—But the more she thought about it, the more she craved it.

She mused. He was handsome, that was for sure. But, more importantly, she was attracted to him—And he owed her. Why, she sounded almost dirty to think of requesting something like that as payment. Maybe that ale she drank on the way here did something to her mind. Until now, she had been too dazed to realize that the First Enchanter was looking at her. One of his eyebrows was arched.

She blinked out of her repose. She hoped what she was about to do wouldn't backfire. It was nor or never.

"I won't detain you any longer, Champion—"

"Jewell," Hawke said. "That's my name."

His other eyebrow perked up, and he seemed to grin. "Of course. Well, I'm certain you're tired of hearing an old badgered mage like me moaning about his problems."

"Actually," she said in a sultry voice, "I'd entertain the idea of you moaning _my _name."

She felt herself involuntarily flinch inside. Maker's Breadth! Did she just say that? Too late, she thought. It was out there now. Orcino seemed to take a double take, but then he did something she did not anticipate: Instead of shaking his head in disgust, or worse, calling her a wanting whore, he leaned back against his desk and crossed his arms, and just smiled.

"Oh, really?" he said, his golden-flaked eyes flashing in the dim candlelight. "I didn't think you took a fancy in elves. Especially," he said, drawing his voice out silkily, "Mages."

Hawke relaxed. "So," she said, wondering how to approach this. "The rumors aren't true, then?"

"What rumors?" he asked, regarding her suspiciously.

"That you and Meredith are…"

"By the Fade! I would _never_ dream of touching… _that_!" He uncrossed his arms, his face drawn tight in repugnance.

"Well, now that we've got _that_ cleared up," she chuckling without meaning to.

But a change came over Orcino. His eyes flashed untold desire as he strode towards her in long purposeful strides. "But I will dream of doing this."

He pulled her to him and crashed his lips onto hers. The sudden and aggressive kiss took her by complete surprise, but her gasp was silenced when his tongue slipped between her teeth and entwined with hers. Grabbing his face with both hands, she deepened the kiss and felt something hard probing her thigh.

She tore away from him to look down at his robes, then looking into his eyes. They were heavy and full of _need_. Evidence that he wanted her as much as she wanted him. He raised a hand to caress the side of her face and leaned his forehead against hers.

"We shouldn't do this," he said. "This won't work."

His breath washed over her, smelling remotely close to liquorish. She tried not to smile. So, she wasn't the only one who had divulged in some alcohol tonight. The smell drew her in like a bee to honey, and before he could change his mind, she claimed his mouth for the taste.

Normally, she would have let her partner take control, but she was feeling a bit devious tonight. Still kissing him, he allowed her to guide him backwards.

"Jewell," he said. There was a warning in his voice that almost convinced her to stop. _Almost._ But her body didn't heed it. She wanted him, and she would have him! She pushed him back, roughly, against his desk, eliciting a surprised moan from him. He was forced to rest back on his elbows while she nipped and sucked at his exposed neck. Giving in to the temptation of her lips, he tipped his head back and closed his eyes, giving her full access. Reaching the apex of his robe, her hands ripped the front of it open. With one finger planted between his chest, she pushed him all the way down until he was lying flat against the top of his desk.

From her stand-up point she admired his naked, lean torso splayed across his desk. She blanched. He was…beautiful. And for a staring moment, she didn't believe this was really happened. But the hardness against her groin snapped her mind back to the current moment , and driven by lust, she bent down and ran her tongue off the cliff of his chin and down his throat. She left teasing kisses across his chest and took one of his dusky nipples into her mouth, and bit it. He gasped from the sensation and his body tensed beneath her.

Still, not the sound she wanted to hear. So she traced her tongue lower, sliding it over his ribcage and into the valley of his smooth, quivering stomach. Her fingertips grazed up and down his chest as she kissed his stomach. Her tongue glided teasingly in and around his navel before delving lower.

She felt his breath hitch when she traced the outline of his hipbones, and just a little further she would fine…

She paused at the knot at his waist holding the rest of his attire together. All she had to do was untie it and she would see all of him. Her loins burned at the thought, but she looked at him for assurance, wanting to make sure that he really wanted this. He seemed to sense her hesitation and lifted up to look at her. But the pleading looking in his eyes washed away and doubt.

With deft fingers, she loosened the barrier and unfolded the robe that secreted away what she desired. She had never seen another man's loins before, but this was…She gulped, wondering how she would fit it all into her mouth—or inside her. Orcino stirred beneath her and flipped her over so that she was trapped beneath _him_. To keep her in place, he pressed his hips roughly against hers, jarring a breathy moan from her. Once again, his lips came crashing down upon hers while his hands began to unfasten the straps to her armor. _Oh, yeah_, she thought. _I almost forgot about that. _

He made short work of it, shredding each piece of armor in fluid motions until she was down to her bra and panties. His arms curled around her form, hoisting her so that he could unbuckle the cloth that shielded her breasts from him. His lips suckled at the base of her neck while his fingers worked at the stubborn fasten in the back.

She tipped her head back and pressed her body against his and said, "Take me."

"I'm trying," he said between kisses. By the way he had quickly disposed of her armor, she assumed that it had been a while for him to learn to do the same to a bra. She couldn't resist a chuckle.

He gave up and with an irritated growl, ripped it off of her instead. The cold air hitting her hardened peaks and his warm tongue swirling and flicking across each of them in turn made her moan. Unexpectedly, he bit down on one of them, hard, causing her to bite down on her lower lip to keep from moaning his name. She wouldn't be the first to break. Instead, she clutched his hair, massaging and running her fingers through it. She had on occasion imagined what his hair would feel like. She hadn't been far from the truth. The smooth, silky strands ran through her groping fingers like a breeze through a cornfield.

He journeyed lower, planting kisses down her stomach and teething at the hems of her panties. Hooking both thumbs beneath them, he pulled them down her spread legs, and knelt between them. It all happened so fast that the next minute, her back was arched, her fingers dug into the papers beneath her, and the moan she was trying so desperately to fight back ripped through her. _Damn, this elf was good_, she thought, closing her eyes tight and relenting in the pleasure his tongue was doing between her legs. Orcino put every elf at the Blooming Rose to shame. None of them had ever been close enough to make her moan, but she was past moaning now. Her hips bucked into his touch, and her fingertips now dug into his scalp. There seemed to be no end to her moans.

She was so close. Her toes curled as a blissful warmth boiled deep inside her. She didn't know how much of this she could take. She wrapped her legs over his slender shoulders, drawing him closer. His fingers gripping her hips branded her skin. Her breath was hard to catch, and his name was on the tip of her tongue. Her back arched to a near breaking point when he suckled on her swollen bud. She gripped the edge of the desk, turning her knuckles white. He moved a hand to squeeze one of her breasts. But as she rode the waves of ecstasy, she restrained from calling out his name. At the peak of her approaching orgasm, he withdrew.

Hawke groaned in protest, shooting him an angry look. But Orcino chuckled and winked in mockery, licking his lips clean. _The teasing bastard!_

But it was her turn to smile. With a forceful kick, she sent Orcino flying backwards onto the floor. Before he could rise, she was on top of him. Forcing his legs apart, she took a breath and swallowed his entire length, coating it in saliva. Orcino threw his head back, his lips parted in an "O", and closed his eyes. His hand rested on her head, guiding her up and down. Hawke experimented, paying close attention to the areas that made his breathing quicken or his hips jerk. And she knew when he pressed down harder on her head, she was on the right trail. She paused at the end of his shaft, sucking and licking the fluid off the tip. Looking, she watched his eyes roll back into his head and the muscles in his stomach quiver in response. But then she heard it. It was feint, but she heard it.

Hawke straddled his hips and pressed her hands on his chest to keep him in place.

"What was that, First Enchanter?" she asked.

Orcino groaned in protest and shot her a glare for refusing him his orgasm. Two can play at this game, she thought, grinning triumphantly.

When he did not answer her at first, she slid a hand behind her to caress his balls. His body twitched, and he moaned despite his attempts to restrain it. It gave her great pleasure to watch such a powerful mage come undone by her hands. And she would see him moan her name before the night was up. He was struggling to say something, on the verge of losing every self-control that kept her name from spilling from his lips.

She suddenly stopped what she was doing, and he whimpered from the loss of her touch. She could see sweat rolling down his brow and glistening off his heaving chest. He was only making this harder on himself, but she had her suspicions that he enjoyed playing hard-to-get.

"Say it, Orcino," Hawke whispered against his ear, then drew her tongue over the sharp tip. "Say it, and I'll give you what you need."

"P-Please!" His voice was a strangled hiss and wanting.

"Say it!" she commanded. She realized, then, that she was going to have to force it out of him. She rose to her knees and leaned back against his throbbing length. The moist tip probed her folds, rubbing against her clit. Then, she sat down on it. The pain at first made her wince, but as it filled her, the uncomfortable sensation dissipated. She began to rock her hips slowly at first, but he became impatient, propelling his hips deeper and faster. Hawke tipped her head back and whimpered from the sudden penetration. The sound of their hips slapping against one another echoed loudly in the chamber. She was sure every Templar and mage within could hear it, and their moaning, but she didn't give Andraste a damn. His hands cupped her bouncing breasts, then gripped her hips as she rode him.

She could tell he was reaching his limits. He was panting heavily, and his eyes were rolling into the back of his head. But gods damnit, he denied her the pleasure of hearing him spout her name. Despite her fast approaching climax, she willed herself to stop and slipped off of him. Orcino growled at her and tried to dominate, but the way she had her legs locked around his torso, he wasn't going anywhere.

"You bitch!" He hissed as he struggled to overcome her. She laughed at his fruitless attempts and brushed his length teasingly across her soppy wet entrance.

"Have it your way," Hawke said with an innocent shrug. "I can do this all night."

She rode him again. Orcino moaned pitifully beneath her, but still refused to say what she wanted to hear. He looked at her, biting his bottom lips to keep from crying out. By Andraste's Flaming Ass! She would fuck it out of him. Without warning, she pulled off him. Orcino groaned in frustration and need, his eyes begging her to give him the release he wanted. But she had something else in mind. Looking at his helpless, panting form, she licked her swollen lips.

Hawke leaned across him and gave him a small kiss on the forehead before squatting between his spread, trembling legs, with her back facing him. She took his length and slipped it between her thights, moaning as it filled her once more. She felt Orcino stir beneath her, no doubt curious to see what she was doing. She leaned back on her arms for support, her head almost meeting his.

"Put your hands on my waist," she instructed. He obliged, running his long, slender fingers tantalizingly down her body to caress her hips. She began to undulate her hips against him, drowning his length deep inside her. Orcino's grip tightened from the sensation, and she could hear him mutter something in elvish. She took that as a good sign and rolled her hips. His breaths came as short, ragged gasps. She was moaning as well , his hips jarring breathy gasps from her when he pumped into her.

"Creators!" Orcino moaned in her ears. She suddenly tilted her hips, allowing only a portion of his cock to enter her, but still riding him without missing a beat, prolonging his orgasm. Orcino graoned in response, trying to thrust deeper. But what he didn't know was that in this position, she was in control. She continued this, relishing in his whimpers and broken elvish phrases. Finally, he cried:

"Fuck, Jewell!"

"'What was that? I couldn't hear you?" Hawke stopped pumping her hips. She smiled wickedly and looking over her shoulder at him, she said, "Too much for you, _old _man?"

That was the last straw for the First Enchanter. Hawke squeaked in surprise when he flipped her onto her back, rolling over on top of her. He parted her legs and shoved himself inside her. His tip hit the back of her, and she arched her back, crying from the sudden pain and pleasure. One hand, o her shoulder, held her in place, while the other gripped her ass. He teased her unmercifully, giving her the same treatment she did him, slowing his pace deliberately and pulling out before she could climax. She glowered up at him, but he merely smiled.

Suddenly, he lifted her legs so that they rested on his shoulders and penetrated her. Hawke cried out from the surmounting pleasure and deep exploration. His hips and balls slapped against her ass, punctuating each thrust. Her hands gripped his thighs, her fingertips leaving indentions in his flesh. With more force and speed that no human could ever achieve, he fucked her relentlessly.

When his cock hit that special sweet spot again, she threw her head back and screamed:

"Oh, gods! Orcino!"

He stopped, panting heavily and grinning. "What was that, Champion? I couldn't hear you."

She threw him a death glare. The bastard had the gall to laugh at her futile attempts to push himself back inside her.

"Say it!" He demanded, rubbing his cock against her gushing entrance. She wasn't weak-willed, but the way he commanded it made her cum.

She met his hard stare. "Fuck me, Orcino! Now!"

He growled in response, flipping her onto her stomach. Gripping her hips, he plunged his length deep inside her. His heavy moans and her broken cries of pleasure filled the chamber. A few, short thrusts later, Orcino shuddered against her, throwing his head back with a sigh. Hawke let out a breathy moan, then slumped to the floor. He laid against her, still inside her. They laid there, catching their breath. Finally, Orcino rose to his feet and helped her off the floor. Piece by piece they reassembled their clothes until they were both fully dressed.

She stood before the door, staring back at him. He stood watching her, seeming to be in deep thought.

"Was it that bad?" she asked with a laugh, even though she was afraid that he was disappointed. He seemed to shake his head, blinking out of a trance.

"N-No!" he said. "Not at all. It was…" His smile suddenly fell. "I've never felt this way towards anybody."

"Nor I," Hawke agreed, feeling another wave of butterflies when he drew nearer to stand before her.

"You mean that?" he asked.

Hawke closed the gap, kissing him. What started out as a soft, gently caress of lips turned into a heated battle for dominance, followed by clothes being ripped apart and armor clanging across the floor, leading to the bedroom.


End file.
